


The Voices, Phil || Techno-centric

by FishCatCrafts



Series: Impcraig Based Works [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angry Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Dadza, Half human still, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Little to no comfort, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade-centric (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit - Freeform, Violent Techno, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), he's like, mild violence, yee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:28:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28686372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishCatCrafts/pseuds/FishCatCrafts
Summary: Based off of a comic by @impcraig on Insta (im now an unpaid writer)Meeting Phil's kids was a bit violent more than Techno thought it'd be.
Relationships: None, Platonic only!
Series: Impcraig Based Works [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2102628
Comments: 8
Kudos: 412





	The Voices, Phil || Techno-centric

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of a comic by @impcraig of Insta and Twitter!
> 
> TWs:  
> • Violence  
> • Mild Blood  
> • Desc. of injuries and Strangulation

Wilbur wasn’t one to roughhouse, at least not to the extent that Tommy did. The little, blond gremlin seemed to draw in that kind of vibe; one of violence and conflict.

So when Phil brought home this pink haired weirdo who practically oozed with bloodlust, Wilbur knew it wouldn’t end well.

_________

“Boys!” Phil shouted, throwing open the door to their quaint cabin-home. “I’m home!”

He turned to the teen at his side, gently pushing him into the foyer with a pat to his back “Relax mate, you’re safe here.”

The kid slowly walked into the house, elongated ears flicking towards the staircase to his side. A loud thunder of footsteps raced across the floor above and pounded on the steps. “Dad!” “Phil!”

Two kids, one appearing close to his own age and one much younger, tumbled over each other. The older of the two, a mop of brown hair and hidden under a baggy sweater, ran up to Phil and hugged the man tightly around the back. The other, young boy with messy blond hair and strikingly blue eyes stared him down with creased eyebrows. “Who’s this?” The blond spoke, voice squeaky.

“This,” a hand fell on his shoulder. “is Technoblade. He’ll be living with us for a bit while I train him.”

“Are you kidnapping more orphans?” The eldest kid asked teasingly.

Phil’s face flushed red in embarrassment, removing his hand from Techno’s shoulder. “No- No I’m just-” he sighed, wings fluttering once. “No, Wil, I’m not adopting him.”

The avian turned to Techno. “These are my painfully awful sons. Wilbur,” he motioned to the brown haired kid. “and Tommy.” Phil pointed to the blond, scowling child.

Techno fidgeted with his shirt, uncomfortable in the room with eyes on him. He could deal with Phil, the man who he has been following around for the past few days. But two kids? He was very out of his element.

“It’s late, let’s get you all arranged in beds. Techno,” the pink haired teen looked up. “You’ll be staying with Wilbur. You two are about the same age.”

He nodded and followed the man up the stairs, the two bots following after. They passed a room with two music disks on the door and “Tommy” written in the bold, red font. The kid still followed after, curiously peaking his interest. 

The walked up to a door with little stickers of fish and cursive writing “Wilbur” on it. Said teen pushed the door open and stepped to the side to allow everyone in. 

There was a bed with a blue comforter, a guitar leaning against the side, and a small couch in the corner. It was somewhat small- cozy, some would say. It was relatively clean too; clothes either hanging up or in a hamper, covers tucked in the bed, and everything nearly placed. “I’ll sleep on the couch, you take the bed.” Wil offered, being courteous like Phil taught him.

Techno shrugged, eyes downcast. “Thanks.” He mumbled.

“Alright then.” Phil clasped his hands together in front of him, a small smile on his face. “You two can get situated while I get Tommy off to bed.”

Phil gently prod Tommy from the room, the kid whining and arguing as he went. The avian quietly closed the door. Tommy’s voice faded as they walked off.

Techno turned to Wilbur, who was busy grabbing an extra blanket and set of clothes. He held the oversized shirt and shorts out. “You can borrow these to sleep in.” Wil offered. 

Techno gently grabbed the clothing. “Do you wear anything other than oversized shirts?” He teased, quirking an eyebrow.

Wilbur grumbled. “The first thing you say to me and it’s mocking my fashion sense.”

“You deserve it if all you wear is  _ this _ .”

Techno’s teasing was all in good fun, and he was grateful that Wilbur saw that. “Bathroom is just across the hall. You can get-”

Wil wasn’t able to finish his sentence before the door clicked and slowly opened. A greasy mess of blond hair stumbled through. “What’re you pussies up to?”

Hearing a, what he can only assume, ten year old speak so vulgar was somewhat amusing to Techno. To Wilbur, not so much. “What did Dad say about swearing?”

Tommy rolled his eyes and huffed. “What that old bat can't hear wont hurt him.”

“What are you even  _ doing  _ out of bed?”

“I wanted to meet this Technoblade guy.” Tommy’s eyebrows creased together again. “What kind of name is that, anyway?”

Techno bristled slightly at the comment, already annoyed and much too over this child. “What kind of name is Tommy? Eh?”

“It’s way better than yours, Techno _ bitch! _ ”

The pink haired teen’s eyes flashed with anger, gritting his teeth painfully. The odd silent in his head long-gone, a chorus of voices shouting violently. “Who do you think you are?” He growled.

“I’m  _ the  _ Tommyinnit, obviously!”

“I don’t know who that is.”

The child gawked, a frown set deep on his lips and eyes narrowing. “Oh, you fucked up.” Tommy taunted.

“Guys-” Wilbur stepped forward, hand outstretched and placed on Techno’s shoulder.

Techno whipped around and growled savagely, voices pounding against his skull and devouring any rational thought. He only partially heard the gasp behind him and hardly registered the look of fear in Wil’s eyes. 

A sudden weight was heavy against his back, too small hands grabbing at his hair. Techno flailed slightly before his hands caught Tommy’s wrists in a tight hold. He flung the younger over and slammed him onto the floor.

Wilbur watched in horror as Techno attacked Tommy, blood stilling in his veins from fear. He raced out of the room and, heart racing, stumbled down the steps. He rushed over to Phil, who lounged on the living room sofa. Phil’s eyes closed and breathing slow, asleep. Wilbur hardly acknowledged the guilt at working his dad up.

“Dadza!”

The avian woke with a start, wings puffing up in fear and eyes wide. He relaxed upon seeing Wilbur, posture going slack again. “What’s up Wil?”

“Um, your student…” He paused to take a breath and calm his ever increasing panic. “Techno is attacking Tommy.”

“ _ What? _ ” 

Phil got out of his chair and onto his feet, not even sparing Wilbur a second glance before climbing up the stairs. 

“Tech- Stop! Please!” Could be heard, faint and muffled, behind Wil’s door.

Phil threw it open and faltered at the scene before him. Tommy was pinned under Techno, the older holding the boy down by his throat. His eyes were narrowed and crazed as he muttered under his breath. Tears were rolling down Tommy’s face in waves as blood poured from his nose. There was a bruise on his cheek too, surely from a nasty blow to the face. Tommy was gasping for breath, nails digging into the wrists of the man holding him down. “Techno.” Phil’s voice was uncharacteristically level, an underlying tone hidden under the false pretense of calm. 

Techno hardly heard the man call his name, focused solely on the chanting of  _ ‘Blood, blood, blood, blood’  _ in his head. It hurt but if he gave them what they wanted, they’d stop. 

“Let him go, now.”

Unfocused eyes flickered to stare up at the winged man, whose feathers were puffed and wings wide and intimidating. The haze faded and Techno realized his actions with horror, hands slowly unlatching from the small child’s neck, who coughed and gasped for air. 

He choked on his own inhale and slid quietly off of Tommy, who stared at him with fear and… something else? 

“Come with me Techno. I want to talk.”

Phil’s face remained scarily calm, only his eyes revealing just how angry and upset he was at the situation. “Wait… Phil, I-”

“Shush.” He placed a hand forcefully on the younger’s shoulder, pulling him out of the room and away from his kids.

Wilbur sunk down behind Tommy, helping to pull him up and into a sitting position. The blond’s hand was over his throat, windpipe practically crushed and head aching. He felt dizzy from the lack of oxygen and even worse with the throb of pain in his nose and face. “Are you okay Tommy?”

The boy looked to his brother with a glare, pulling away to cough into his elbow painfully. “Yeah-” His voice was rough. “Is Dadza really gonna…?” 

Tommy was… worried about Techno? The teen who had his life in his hands and very well planned on ending it? What the fuck?

Wilbur sighed and carded his fingers through his hair, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth and teasing it for a second before releasing. “I doubt he’d hurt him.”

Techno numbly walked down the steps and followed the avian into the living room. Phil sighed and patted the space next to him. Techno realized that tears were falling heavily down his face and frantically wiped them away with his… bloody sleeve? When did-?

“Techno, be honest with me…” Phil gathered some of Techno’s long hair into his hand and gently pulled knots from the strands. “What happened?”

The boy stared off at his hands, eyes unfocused and blurred. “They pressured me into this…” he spoke in a hushed tone.

“Who? Wil and Tommy?” He paused only for a second. “They do tend to mess around a lot…” 

“No.” The reply was quick and filled with an emotion almost foreign to Phil; bloodlust. “The voices did.”

It was quiet for sometime after, the hands playing with his hair freezing mid-motion. They picked up again, albeit slower and almost less focused in a way. “What… what voices?”

Techno remained quiet, the very voices in his head overloading and overwhelming him. “They talk, Phil. They say so much and yell so much. They’re so violent.” He was breaking at the seams. “Blood, Phil. They want blood.”

  
  



End file.
